Stars Eternal
by SpellCleaver
Summary: "We appreciate the extra time under the stars, but we don't need an excuse to watch the night sky." A oneshot for Feyre's birthday. Written before ACOFAS, so obviously some things are now non-canon.


As we were in the Night Court, it was only natural I expected there be some sort of celebration or festival in Velaris to celebrate the Winter Solstice - the longest night of the year.

But when I asked Rhys, he only laughed, took my right hand, brushing a reverent thumb over the inked palm, leaned in, and whispered in my ear, "No. We appreciate the extra time under the stars, but we don't need an excuse to watch the night sky."

And indeed, it was beautiful. Even after several months since I'd returned from the Spring Court, the sight of the billions upon billions of stars never ceased to elicit a gasp from me. I'd tried to paint it many, many, _many_ times, but though the level of skill improved with every canvas I covered, I could never quite capture the beauty of it. I could never perfectly recreate those nebulae and comets, all brilliant shades of crimson, gold, violet, blue, hanging in the velvety black sky like faerie dust scattered amongst fathomless waters.

I'd had three months to get used to the total and infinite darkness that gathered in the Night Court in winter, so it was no surprise to me when I looked up at gone four o'clock to see one of Velaris' spectacular sunsets under way, staining the tops of the carved houses and the waters of the distant sea a rosy pink shot through with gold. I smiled to myself, and paused for a moment before I lit a lamp to continue reading to just study it, study how the play of orange light gleamed off the colourful shop fronts of the Rainbow, before filtering through the gauzy curtains into mine and Rhys' room.

I lit a thick candle, balancing the book on my knee and gripping the candle in my right hand, and continued to read. It was an interesting story, in a world about humans and creatures similar to faeries called Fae, and was about an assassin who was revealed to be a demi-Fae princess capable of saving her continent. I was thoroughly enjoying it.

I kept reading, the sunset brushing the echoes of a faint smile still lingering on my face, and remained engrossed until the last hints of violet bled out of the sky. The dry paper was rough against my High Fae fingers as I turned the pages, and a pool of peace grew within me, steadily expanding until I, seated at the very centre of it, took longer than usual to process the incessant tugging on that psychic bond Rhys and I shared.

I put down my book, folding down the corner of my page, and sighed in exasperation before tugging back. _What?_

A scrap of parchment fluttered down from the air directly in front of me - so close to my nose I sneezed. It floated neatly into my lap, swiftly followed by a pen clattering on top of it.

I smiled fondly as I picked up the pen, and studied what was written on the paper. _Come up to the balcony._

The one he'd showed me on Starfall, I guessed. But nevertheless, I jotted down _Why?_ and watched it and the pen disappear.

 _Because I want to show you something,_ came the reply, quick and rapid, almost as if he'd anticipated my reticence, the loops slightly more askew than they would be if not written in haste. _Come up_.

I smiled, and stood from my chair, the gossamer, sweet pea coloured clothes of the Night Court rustling around my stomach and elbows. The layout of the House of Wind had become second nature these past few months, and I easily navigated as I traipsed up to where we'd spent Starfall dancing together, where I could sense through the bond between us that my mate was waiting.

"You took your time," Rhysand commented teasingly as I opened the door, sucked out, and shut it carefully behind me. He turned to look at me, hands tucked behind his back, and I just stood there from a moment, taking in the fine indigo suit he'd chosen to wear for whatever reason, my palm still pressed against the glass door.

He slanted me a half grin as I stepped forward, and his intense violet eyes seemed to glow for an instant. The light from inside leaked out like watered down sunshine, but it was still dark enough to warrant caution as I climbed up onto the balcony rail where he sat, his wings drooping behind him like petals covered in soot.

"Not everyone can fly," I quipped in response, sliding a hand across the rail towards him. He took it, and began to play with the ring on the finger there: a ring of twisted gold and silver, shards of pearl embedded in the metal like it was studded with starlight, and one massive sapphire set in it. His mother's ring. My wedding ring. "Hence the reason not everyone here is perfectly at ease perching on the edge of a sheer drop."

He recognised it for the joke it was, and chuckled warmly. "You know I wouldn't let you fall." He said, then added, "And actually I think you could. Fly, that is." I cast him an incredulous look, and he elaborated, "I was thinking about it, and we could test the usage of those Illyrian wings you can summon. It could work."

My eyebrows nudged together. "No thanks; I value having my internal organs inside my body."

"I'm not saying we chuck you off the side of the mountain, cruel thing, and you know it." His eyes danced as he smiled. I smiled back, a lazy one, like the smirk of a cat stretching out by the fire. "I was merely suggesting we consider it."

My smile widened, and I leaned into him. I felt his arm come round to rest his hand on my waist, and I leaned my head on his shoulder. He sighed underneath me, even as we looked down on Velaris, his city - _our_ city - and saw how it twinkled under the night sky, like a selection of earth bound stars.

Rhys cleared his throat behind me, and I shifted to look up into his beautiful face. He reached behind him and brought forward a pastry-like thing, which he then handed to me.

I looked down at it, and had to stifle a laugh. "Did you make this yourself?"

The top of the cake was lathered with icing that didn't quite cover the blackened crumbs, and jam seeped from within the dough, making my hand sticky. I turned my face up to his, and the tension that had been in his shoulders drained away. I bit into it despite its poor countenance, and asked around a mouthful of crumbs, "I thought it was the female who was supposed to offer her mate food?"

He grinned at me, before reaching out to play with a strand of hair that fell in front of my shoulder, and tuck it behind my ear. "I figured that was a bit sexist. Besides, we're not exactly the conventional pair."

The most powerful High Lord in the history of Prythian, and a child of all seven courts, the first ever High Lady of Prythian.

"No," I agreed, taking another bite. It didn't taste too bad. "We're not." I finished it off, and licked the remaining crumbs and jam off of my fingers.

Rhysand leaned in to caress my lips with his own, and murmured, "Happy Birthday, Feyre."

I raised an eyebrow, even with my eyes closed. "You remembered?"

"Of course."

Despite myself, I smiled. "So you're just going to celebrate it every year for the next five hundred years, or so?"

Rhys pulled back at that, the expression on his face solemn. He cupped my face in his hands, and said, "I almost lost you at the Spring Court, Feyre."

I shook my head, but he kept going regardless, and I knew I couldn't stop him. "No, it's true. I almost lost you. And I started thinking. . ." He sighed against me. "I started thinking, it doesn't matter if we're immortal. Technically, we have endless days, but we're the High Lord and High Lady of the Night Court. We have targets on our backs.

"And one day, we will die. We're lucky we haven't died already. But one day, we will, whether it's of natural causes, or an assassin, or a rival court. . . We will die. And so I'm going to enjoy every moment I have with you to the fullest, so when we do, I have fewer regrets."

His eyes shone as I looked up at him, the moon glowing behind his head like a halo. "Alright," I whispered. "Then I should probably know when your birthday is, so I can do that too."

He shook his head, a playful smile teasing the edges of his lips. "Nope. Tonight's about you, darling." He held me tighter, and promised, "I'll tell you tomorrow."

"Tomorrow then," I confirmed, and when he kissed me, I kissed him back, and for a moment, we weren't two of the most powerful High Fae to exist.

We were just Feyre and Rhysand, holding on even when there's no fear of letting go, backlit by the city we'd both sacrificed so much to protect.


End file.
